All Things Yasha
by Marishaten
Summary: A collection of my postings for various IY contests.
1. Past Mistake

Pretty in Pink

It was a bright, crisp, autumn day. Inuyasha was strutting ahead of the group, head held high and eyes closed. But today there was something different about his friends.

His dog ears could catch whispers and suppressed giggles, and even though he didn't have eyes at the back of his head, he was uncomfortably aware of four pair of eyes boring into his back.

Unable to stand the mystery any longer, Inuyasha whipped around to face the weirdoes. Immediately they assumed suspicious stances. Sango started inspecting her feet, Shippou "fell asleep" on Miroku's shoulder and Miroku himself started to blow-dry imaginary paint from his nails. Kagome hurriedly hid something behind her, but in that nanosecond Inuyasha caught scent of it.

Immediately he blanched.

"W-where did you get it from?" he demanded, head starting to spin.

_After all this time…noway…he thought it belonged to his past…_

"I-it's a bestseller. Not hard to get hold of," Kagome stammered defensively.

"You're lying!" he swiped at the offending article but Kagome moved it out of his reach.

_No…what was he going to do? How would he explain that…_

"W-well, in my defence, that colour was the rage that season!" Inuyasha's throat was dry; his worst nightmare was coming true in front of his eyes and he was helpless to prevent it!

"Colour?" Miroku looked up in faux confusion, "Whatever do you mean Inuyasha?"

Sango inspected her feet even closer as a wave of laughter racked her body.

"You shouldn't have shown them!" Inuyasha spoke viciously, as his companions started grinning openly now.

"B-but," Kagome protested, as she held out volume 1 of the manga, "you look pretty in pink, Inuyasha."

Too late…his eyes were already as red as his re-dyed ensemble.

"Kiss him, Kagome-sama, quick!" Miroku shouted.

Kagome turned pink at that, but there was nothing pretty about her predicament.

* Originally posted to Inuyasha Fanfic Contest for their prompt Pretty in Pink.


	2. Many Moods

A/N: The perfume recipes mentioned belong to their respective owners. Also, no attempt has been made to malign the reputation of David Blaine.

"Danger," said Sesshoumaru.

Centuries had passed since the downfall of Naraku. With the decline in warfare, many of the youkai had to give up their favourite occupation (fighting) and adopt alternative professions in order to earn a living. They generally opted for a job commensurate with their abilities – the wolves had set up a courier service, the foxes started going by the name of David Blaine and the sons of the great dog general decided to utilize their nasal powers in order to open a perfume shop.

Business was difficult without showmanship, so the brothers were trying to come up with a range called "Many Moods" – perfumes representing (surprise!) the many moods of humans. The exercise was this: Sesshoumaru would name a mood, Inuyasha would describe it (since the former had the emotional range of a hairbrush) then both would decide which extracts would combine to produce that effect. The opening mood had Inuyasha scrunch up his face in concentration. It had been so long since he felt something akin to danger.

_Red dyeing his vision, fangs and claws extended, poised, ready to kill…_

"Heady, intoxicating, wild, ecstatic."

"Hmm," said the taiyoukai. "How about grapefruit, mint and blood orange for top notes; rose, cinnamon and blond leather as the middle; and…let me see…white woods, sandal and patchouli for base?"

"Naah…not sandal. Amber would be good."

"So be it," he made a note of the recipe. "Nostalgia?"

_His mother smiling, flowers swaying in her hair, her long, flowing gown, the scent of the palace…_

"Rich, vibrant, luxurious, emotional."

"Top notes of magnolia, mandarin and ivy," Sesshoumaru noted. "Middle notes of orchids, violet and rose. Base notes of Damascus plum, amaranth wood and blackberry musk."

"Yeah, that should be good," Inuyasha nodded in agreement.

"Melancholy."

_Kikyou…the sorrow in her eyes, her cold, hard lips, the black despair in her voice…_

"Subdued, introspective, moody, isolated."

"Let's see…how about aniseed, hesperidic notes and rose for the top?"

"Not bad. You can add violet and hawthorn in the middle."

"Iris root at the base," he noted. "Vibrancy?"

_Lying in the warm sun, playing with Shippou, Miroku's antics, Sango's mock-irritation…_

"Outdoors, green grass, ocean, energy."

"In that case mandarin orange, orange and petit grain for tops; lavender, cotton flower, seaweed and posidonia for the middle…"

"Patchouli, cedar, woody notes and amber for base," concluded Inuyasha.

"Hm…you are getting better at this. Alright, love?"

_Kagome…_

Inuyasha frowned. How would he describe Kagome's scent? It was mingled with his breath – etched in every cell of his body. But how to describe it?

"Love?" Sesshoumaru asked again, a hint of irritation in his voice.

_Kagome…_

Inuyasha gulped. This was awkward – he was getting tongue-tied.

"Inuyasha, we don't have all day. We still have jealousy, seduction and sophistication to cover, so make it quick. Describe love."

_Kagome…_

A faint smile appeared on Inuyasha's lips.

"Kagura." He said with finality.

It was Sesshoumaru's turn to get tongue-tied.

*Originally posted on Inuyasha Fanfiction for their prompt Scent. Was placed second.


	3. Strength in Numbers

_Pack animal,_ thought Naraku contemptuously as he faced his bitter foe. He remembered Inuyasha from the time he was skulking around the edge of humanity – shunned by humans and demons alike. So psychologically fragile, so suspicious, so easy to manipulate – one little breeze of betrayal and he snapped just like a twig. But now…now he draws strength from his pack as much as his sword – from his bitch and the pup, the houshi and the taijiya – with their support he grows stronger by the hour. Naraku despised the rabble, yearned to pick them up one by one and send them into oblivion, because that was the only way to destroy Inuyasha – to isolate and corner him, and then break him like a twig all over again.

"You should sleep in the same grave as your _friends, _Inuyasha" Naraku said as he rose through the Hakureizan.

_Pack animal_, thought Kikyou ruefully, as she hugged him back, among the fireflies. Inuyasha had sworn to avenge her but she did not want to tear him away from his friends – not for him was her solitary pursuit of justice. He belonged to the living, breathing group that surrounded him. He needed their warmth and camaraderie – _that_ was the secret to his strength and confidence. Yes, he had invited her to join him, but that was sure to cause a rift. Kagome was the one holding the group together, and in her cold presence things were sure to crumble. She could never upset the delicate balance the hanyou had achieved in life, knowing how loneliness had affected him in the past.

"You should return to your friends, Inuyasha," Kikyou said as she made her lonesome progress through the woods.

_Pack animal_, thought Kagome affectionately, as she watched her beloved hanyou swagger ahead of her. Being on his own for all those years bathed in society's ridicule and contempt must have been terrible. Jinenji was living proof of that. Inuyasha had beauty and strength unparalleled, lineage and immortality – things that people would die for. But what most people had, he lacked – a mother's love, a father's protection, the company of good friends. _No more,_Kagome strengthened her resolve. She'd make sure from now Inuyasha will always have a place to belong, his pack and his home.

"You're not alone anymore, Inuyasha," Kagome affirmed as she trudged behind him.

_Pack animal_, thought Inuyasha grimly. _One whose pack has been recently murdered and he believes I did it_. He knew how his opponent was feeling. Belonging to a pack made life worth living; having someone to talk to, face battles together, eat and drink and laugh and occasionally cry – if his own pack had been wiped out like that he'd go mad in grief.

"Alright, you wimpy wolf," Inuyasha said as he raised the Tessaiga – trying to reason with him would be impossible right now, "let's fight to the finish."

*Originally posted on Inuyasha Fanfiction for their prompt Pack Animal. It won first position.


	4. Thwarted Ambitions

Whiskers

Naraku grimaced as he drank the potion. Cross-species morphing was difficult, the witch had said. But he was desperate. He couldn't break their alliance from the outside. He'd forced Sango to steal the Tessaiga, even made Kagome fight Inuyasha. None of it worked because of their strong faith in each other. Now it was time to break them from the inside.

As the potion coursed through him like liquid poison, he felt a fine set of whiskers erupt above his lips; two tails developed out of his tail bone; he dropped down on all fours and let out a roar – the transformation was a success. How easy now to have the nekomata abducted by Kagura and take her place.

Then at night, when they'd be sleeping oh so peacefully, how easy to kill them off. He'd smother the priestess and the runt to death – they wouldn't even know what hit them. The houshi was already injured; he'd offer no more than minimum resistance. With the taijiya, some form of trickery was necessary – calling her away from the rest and then an orchestrated accident, perhaps. That just left Inuyasha – alone, broken and separated from all. He, Naraku, would either kill him, or turn him into a slave.

A smug cat prowled Kagewaki's castle that evening, before going out for the hunt. Coming across a huge silver mirror it stopped and frowned, its ambitions suddenly thwarted.

It seemed even magic couldn't hide his true identity – the spider-shaped scar on his back.

* Originally posted on Inuyasha Fanfic Contest for their prompt Whiskers.


	5. A Monk's Farewell

Don't hold me back, Sango. For all your tears and sweet entreaties, I cannot stay. This is my destiny, to overcome the fate that was thrust upon me by the gods above, or to perish utterly as the last scion of a cursed line. Family was never meant for me, nor wealth and social status. Everyday is a fight for survival, every step an uphill battle against fate, tempting death, flying in the face of Providence. How can I bind myself to you, or to any man's daughter, when my soul is looking for the slightest chance to flee the bindings of my body? What can come of the futile wishes and pathetic affections of a dying monk?

Don't cry, Sango. Is it the word of farewell or the desolation of the night that is playing tricks on your mind? Tomorrow as the sun will rise you will have a million things to do. Your friends will gather around you, your brother will offer comfort a new life, a new destination there won't be the leisure to mourn and weep for one who was unworthy of your affections to begin with.

Don't say you cannot go on without me. Look out of the window. See the groaning storm and the lashing rain and the thunder that is threatening to shake the foundations of the earth? That, too, is going to end. The forest fire that is running rampage today will die out tomorrow, one day the water of the ocean will dry up. Only peace will remain the emerald hues of death and the eternal spring of life.

Don't despair, Sango. We will part, but will the world cease to turn? Will the sun and the moon not remain, eternal, in the sky? Will the mist not rise, so beautifully over the paddy field? Will the lotus flowers not drench in the morning dew? Will the dove not sing for her mate? Nothing is constant, dear, save life and death nothing inevitable save destiny. We were born for a reason; in time you too will find your reason to go on living.

For now, don't hold me back, dear. For all your tears and sweet entreaties, I cannot stay.


	6. As you sow

A/N: Originally posted on IYissekiwa for their prompt Sew or Sow. It won Third position. Partially inspired from an old Sanskrit poem.

They were fed up with Miroku's thieving and lying and (in someone's case) womanizing. So when a chance came for revenge, they pounced upon it with a savage delight.

The daimyo begged his pardon as a bowl of freshly grilled fish was accidentally placed in front of the monk.

"Who put the fish in front of houshi-sama?" he demanded to know.

Immediately an apologetic servant scooped up the bowl. Miroku watched helplessly as the heavenly aroma of grilled salmon slowly wafted away from him. Shippou protested on behalf of his friend.

"Hold on, wait a second! Our Miroku _loves_ salmon."

The daimyo turned his head, surprised: "A friar with a taste for fish?"

"Oh, only when he has some sake to wash it down with," Sango quipped in with a toothy smile.

"Drinks, too?" the daimyo looked surprised.

"Who wouldn't, when he's dining in the company of harlots?" Inuyasha clarified cheerily.

"But don't those girls cost a lot?"

"Yeah," Kagome agreed, "that's why he steals, you see?"

The daimyo's face reddened in anger: "It's just that he took care of the tanuki spirit, otherwise I'd _never_ allow a thief to sleep under my roof."

"But what _else_ is he to do?" Shippou protested again, quite innocently, "Can't you see he's a holy man vowed to poverty?"

The monk was left glaring at each of the traitors.


	7. The Shapeless

A/N: Originally posted on IYFic Contest for their prompt Misshapen. Won second position.

Misshapen – her deep desires that live in uneasy cohabitation with her miko duties – forbidden thoughts that, like will o' the wisps, entice and tantalize her, and yet float just out of her reach.

Misshapen – his suffocating obligation that keeps him from embracing life and love, goading him to chase after the mirage of a moment that was never meant to be – bindings that afford him neither happiness nor peace of mind.

Misshapen – that bandit's heart, like the unseemly lumps of flesh that cling to his form – relics of twisted emotions that at one time might have been lust or love, he wasn't sure what anymore.

Misshapen – her insecurities that cast a bizarre gloom inside her heart; shapeless dread of being abandoned, uncouth despair for being only a substitute, grotesque pain of one-sided love that obscures even the things that are plain to see.

Misshapen – the golden glimpses of a false future that life shows him at times, even being aware of his reality – the cold poison running through his veins, erasing his life faster than the lines drawn upon a sandy beach.

Misshapen – her fear, like the scar upon her back; the chilling thought of facing her own blood in battle, the horrid chance that it might be her weapon, which will mow him down – fear that does not let her belong to either friends or foe.

Misshapen – the goose egg on his head where Inuyasha had bopped him. That stupid dog…Shippou will make him pay for this!


	8. The Raindrops Kept Falling

A/N: Originally posted to IYissekiwa for their prompt Wash and Wear. Won first position.

The camellia kept bending in the incessant rain.

Water has a strange quality – it can wash away all impurities, wear down even the mightiest of rocks. So maybe the rain would someday fill the void in his soul.

It had certainly cleansed her wounds. Even a few minutes ago new blood would gush out to replace the drops that were being wiped away by the gentle rain-hands. But now all was quiet. The last trace of crimson had oozed into the soil.

It was the rain that, like a loving nanny, had washed the amniotic fluid off the tiny infant who never cried. His small, furry ears hung limp before they had a chance to twitch. Both mother and son slept peacefully now, no longer the victims of a horrific youkai attack.

A long yowl of pain escaped from the throat of the adult hanyou. The attacker lay in pieces, like his hopes for a brighter future. Even the satisfaction of revenge was gone now. What remained was the howling, echoing emptiness, mocking the stupid half-breed for thinking that the world could be a beautiful, meaningful place. Drop by drop, everything that was good and pure in his life had been washed away.

Unconcerned, the camellia kept bending in the incessant rain.


	9. Resilient

A/N: Originally published on IB4Y.2 for their prompt "Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage," Anais Nin. Won first position.

Miroku awakened in the middle of the night. There was a strange feeling in his right arm. As if an icy liquid was inching through his veins, reaching for his loudly thumping heart. There was a dull, throbbing pain all over his body. Kagome's anaesthetics must have worn off. Slowly, painfully, he opened his eyes.

Moonlight was filtering through the window, washing his supine body in pearlescent glow. Sango was sleeping some way off, but she was jerking in her slumber as if she was having a nightmare. The stain of dried tears marred her pale cheek. Miroku wanted to raise a hand and caress that cheek, but his muscles protested loudly against the strain. He gave up the idea and lay in almost a paralytic half-awareness, as if he was being slowly sucked into a bottomless abyss.

Endless battles, each worse than the one before. And yet Naraku was nowhere near defeat. If anything, he was getting stronger by the hour, as was the wind tunnel in his hand. Between the two of them how much time did he really have? The monk sighed.

How many times would he force his body to go through this ordeal? As painful as it was to have the Kazaana open wider and wider, the treatment was more painful still. The medicines burned his throat like acid when they went down to neutralize the poison; then came the dizziness and nausea – sometimes it became so bad he had to clutch his head and scream silently. There were days when he would want nothing more than a chance to crumple down in a heap, put his head between his knees and lie motionless for hours in a dark corner of a room. But they were always on the move, and he couldn't bear to be the one holding them up and wasting their chance to defeat Naraku.

On nights like this, Miroku almost longed to give up and surrender to his fate. One horrible death wouldn't be half as bad as the punishments that he was subjecting himself to on a daily basis. His grandfather and father had lived in peace as their Kazaana grew, then one day they went out bravely to meet their fate. Surely, that would be the rational thing to do.

Or were they truly at peace? Miroku remembered a trace of anxiety forever darkening his father's handsome face. He used to be kind of jumpy, often looking at his back, like he was expecting to see the shadow of death. It must have been terrible waiting for demise, bullied by his own body which refused to support him, and knowing that there was nothing he could do about it.

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage, Mushin had told him once. His life would probably be a short one, Miroku pondered, but at least he wouldn't cower in a corner waiting for the shadows to come and claim him. He would resolve to make the most of the time that was given to him – to push his limits and challenge his destiny. He would face each day with undaunted courage and write his autobiography with the fiery ink of rebellion. That would turn his unbearable existence into something to be proud of. A life of dignity and the death of a hero – if he managed that he would proudly sit in the company of his forefathers in heaven.

Slowly, excruciatingly, the monk forced himself into a sitting position, and coaxed another dose of the medicine past his throat.


	10. The Silent Spectator

A breeze touched his topmost branches, sending a tremor down his ancient spine. Sunlight scarcely touched his darkened core anymore, yet in his gnarly roots resided the deep consciousness of the forest. To the world he appeared motionless; his imperceptible movements were hidden from the knowledge of the swifter creatures. And yet he had eyes and ears – he was acutely aware of the world around him, that grew and changed as he remained, unperturbed, in their midst, his bark still strong enough to withstand the youki of even the mightiest of demons.

He was truly a study in contradictions.

He was a sapling once, weak and helpless among the giants that towered around him, obscuring his light and air – the two things he had needed the most. But he never gave up his fight for survival, outgrowing even the tallest tree until one day we watched with awed eyes the sages of the sky spread their dark prayer mats and chant the rosary of the silent stars. He watched the sunlight filter through the leaves like wisps of a green beard. He knew each stone, each mineral, each secret horde of gems hidden under the forest floor.

When the Lord of the West had fallen, he had heard whispers in the soil. When the shadow of the demon spider was rising, he could taste the bitterness of the miasma in the sky. Yet he felt equal concern as he watched over a nest of hatchlings while their mother was away. He had shielded them with his leafy boughs, and seen each vivid, colourful dream that crossed those tiny eyes.

A flash of white snapped Bokusenou out of his daydream. Sesshoumaru was approaching him. He knew what it was concerning, a while ago he had sensed it in the wind.


	11. Not Worth It

A/N: Originally submitted to IYFic for their Prompt Two's Company. Won first place.

Inuyasha couldn't understand what the big deal was. In his mind the whole picture was pretty clear: He had to find the shards of the shikon jewel as soon as he could; already he was slowed down by a pathetic girl who knew nothing about archery or the skills necessary for combat; the last thing he needed was to adopt a homeless brat, who essentially was a motormouth with sass to match but of no real use in battle.

His only fault was that he had shared his very valid concerns with Kagome, using maybe…just maybe, a little colourful language. That could have warranted a frown or perhaps a cross word or two – he was ready to grant that much. What it did _not_ warrant were the string of 'osuwari's issuing on and on out of her filthy, slavering lips.

As Inuyasha pushed himself off the ground and dusted the earth and dry leaves clinging to him, he reconsidered his earlier thought. Her lips weren't exactly filthy and slavering – more of a nice shade of cherry and quite soft – he knew from the occasions when she had fallen asleep against him. They were nice, bow-shaped lips – further contemplation revealed – lips that he would very much like to kiss. A blush crept up his cheeks as he hastened to chase the new thought out of his mind. Life was hard enough as it was, without having to complicate things further. Besides, he'd had it with mortal women.

Lost as he was in his own reverie, he had hardly noticed when Shippou had sat down beside him.

"Wow, that Kagome could be scary!" the kitsune said with a shiver.

"Tell me about it," Inuyasha grumbled.

"I, for one, would think twice before ticking her off," he shook is head slowly.

"Keh! Pretty much _everything_ I say ticks her off for some reason," the hanyou sulked.

"Well, you _could_ use a shade more control when talking to her," Shippou opined thoughtfully.

'_That does it.'_

"Who the hell are you to lecture on how I should talk to Kagome?" Inuyasha yelled at the top of his lungs, "If you think I want any advice from a spoilt, shit-headed, measly, idio-"

"Why don't you like me, Inuyasha?" Shippou cut him off in the middle of his tirade.

The hanyou shut his mouth with a snap. Then opened it and shut it again.

"Wh-what an idiotic question," he finally managed to say, "have you ever looked at yourself?"

"I think it's got nothing to do with me," Shippou nodded his head sagely.

"Yeah, right!" Inuyasha replied sarcastically, dearly wishing to kick the kitsune up in the air. Only Kagome's ire prevented him from suiting action to the thought.

"I know what's going on around here," Shippou continued, unperturbed, "you have a thing with Kagome."

"What thing?" Inuyasha retorted.

"I don't know _that_, I'm just a kid. But that's what people say, when two people don't want a third to hang out with them. Two's company, three's a crowd, they say."

"Who?"

"People. Sheesh! You're even worse than I am! Anyway, that's what your problem is. You have a thing with Kagome and you want to hang out only with her and now I'm here so that's ticking you off."

Inuyasha snorted. "I hardly think that's the situation here."

"You know, you can use me to get closer to her," Shippou continued with a sly grin upon his face, "Kagome likes me quite a lot, so if you protect me and always dote on me and sacrifice your share of the food to fill my belly Kagome will see your sensitive side and like you all the more for it."

Inuyasha considered the option. If he was nice to Shippou – it was difficult but he _could_ manage it, he supposed – then Kagome wouldn't be mad at him. That meant no more osuwari.

A voice of reason shattered his Utopia – _'There would always be reasons for her to get mad at you. The osuwari will continue as long as she's with you. And you won't have the satisfaction of being mean to the kitsune either.' _

Reason ruled over passion.

"No, thank you," said Inuyasha as he gave vent to his frustration with a hearty kick to Shippou's backside.

"Kagomeeeeeeeeee!" he wailed as he sailed through the air.

"Inuyasha!" Kagome's shrieked echoed from within the makeshift hut they were staying in.

Inuyasha was prepared for what was to come. He was already lying on the ground.

"Totally worth it," he thought as a fresh round of osuwari revolved harmlessly around him.


	12. Domestic Disturbances

A/N: Originally posted to IYIssekiwa for their prompt Raise or Raze. Won first position.

Momoko's words fell like thunderclap upon Sesshoumaru's ears. Groping for his chair, he let himself fall in it. The dying rays of the sun filtered through the glass windows and tinged his white hair red.

His daughter – his own flesh – had asked him if she meant anything to him! If he despised her for being a _half-demon_!

_How could Momoko even say such a thing?_

Footsteps echoed inside the room. Rin sat down opposite to him and started fanning herself. She was well into her third pregnancy. Usually her plump hands and swollen figure would fascinate her husband to no end but today he sat silently, absorbed in his own thoughts.

"What's wrong?" Rin asked.

Sesshoumaru looked up. "Momoko asked me if I despise her," he stated icily. He wouldn't let Rin see his turmoil – that'd be beneath his dignity.

"Probably because of the way you treat Inuyasha-sama," Rin replied casually.

"But she's my _blood_, my _daughter_," he protested – this time with more emotion. "I named her after my favourite flower!"

"Really?" Rin frowned, "_That's_ your favourite flower?"

Sesshoumaru stared at her as if she was insane.

"You _see_!" Rin spread her hands out, "If you continue to raise these walls around you _everybody_ is going to get the wrong picture. I mean, if _I_ didn't know that plum is your favourite flower, it's obvious that Momoko doesn't know it either!"

Sesshoumaru sighed – did Rin want him to wear his heart on his sleeve now? He shuddered at the very idea.


	13. A Woman's Heart

A/N: Originally submitted to IY Fanfiction for their prompt Majestic. Won first position.

_Majestic,_ thought Kagura as she looked up at the figure in front of her. Tall and fair beyond measure, his silver hair fluttering in the morning breeze, matching the flowers strewn on the field – the aristocratic son of the great dog-general.

_I thought I was going to die alone,_ she thought to herself. A faint smile appeared at the corners of her lips.

"I came following the scent of Naraku's miasma." His voice was a deep, rich baritone.

The sound of it caused her heart to skip a beat, pulsing Naraku's venom faster into her veins. Kagura was quite enjoying this new sensation – the quickening of a pulse, the insistent beating of the organ called the 'heart'. If only she had more time – if only she could be with him…

But then he was not looking for her in the first place.

"Are you disappointed that I'm not Naraku?" she smiled without humour. She wondered if the 'heart' was even something worth possessing – so far it had only caused her to daydream and believe in things that couldn't possibly come true.

"I knew it was you," he replied quietly.

The wind died down in the field. Not even a bird was chirping.

Only her regret echoed with the malicious twist of destiny – at long last she got to hear the words, but at the moment when she was doomed to fade away from this world. All her life she had longed for freedom, and now that she was free, she wished nothing more than to be bound to him for all eternity. If only she had eternity…

"I see, you came knowingly…" words were too shallow, too trivial for what she was feeling. Feelings – most likely the by-products of 'heart'. What was the use of them now?

"Are you going?" his voice trembled slightly.

Kagura was surprised – she had never expected the taiyoukai to betray human emotions. Maybe he did not want to hold back, safe with the knowledge that his momentary weakness would dissipate in the wind with her, never to be known by another soul. Kagura smiled, _she would always keep his secret safe with her_.

"Yes, it's time."

_I'm glad I got to see you, before the end…_

His eyes were over-bright. Her's faded as nothingness threatened to claim her. There was a movement among the bushes – probably Inuyasha and his group were coming to rescue her. _Too late._

The glass mask was settling over his face once again. _So conscious of his image._

Kagura laughed one last time.


	14. The Gifts of the Kami

A/N: Originally submitted to IY Fanfiction for their prompt Uninvited. Won first position.

"Now pray to the kami and ask for your heart's desire," Kagome urged Inuyasha at the end of the ritual.

Inuyasha was suddenly at a loss for prayers.

Throughout his life everything had come to him uninvited – both the good and the bad. He had never wished for a single thing.

Being orphaned at a young age, living in the forest, struggling for survival, getting chased away by the bigger demons, the jeers, pebbles and sticks that he had collected from the humans he had come in contact with – it was all uninvited, he certainly did not go looking for any of it.

Then Kikyou had come inside his heart without the slightest warning, and when she left, she had walked away without so much as a backward glance. There was nothing he could do about it.

Naraku was uninvited trouble – a bitter enmity that he incurred through no fault of his own.

Kagome didn't wait for an invitation to come crashing through his slumber, to awaken him and free him from his binding seal. Shippou, Miroku, Sango – they all came of their own accord and became a part of his life.

After Naraku was defeated, for a moment he had harboured the desire to settle down to a life of peace with Kagome. But fate had intervened; separation came in, uninvited, and dashed his fragile hope into pieces.

And yet again, after three long years during which he had given up all hope for that future, the portal had opened by itself, and Kagome's scent – inviting and yet unexpected, permeated his entire body once again.

Then the children came uninvited, and became the greatest source of joy to him.

They were all grown up and married now, so Inuyasha had to build a bigger house in order to accommodate the newest members of his family. Kagome officiated a small ceremony to ask for the kami's blessings before they moved into their new home.

"Inuyasha?" she was prodding him, startling him out of his reverie, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I'm fine," he replied with a smile as he looked around his family of nine.

He realized that most of all, he had enjoyed the suspense of the ride. Whatever had come to him uninvited were disguised gifts from the kami, and whether he liked them or not, he had embraced them all with open arms. If he had rejected even one of them, he would probably not have been sitting so happily with his family right now.

"Give us all a part of your strength – so we can smilingly bear whatever gifts you have in store for us," the patriarch prayed to the kami.


	15. It's Complicated

A/N: First submitted to Firsttweak for their Prompt Spicy.

'_It was definitely spicy,'_ Inuyasha thought irritably as he sat under the goshinboku. Another luncheon had been spoiled by Kagome's cooking, although she had promised him that the food would _not_ be spicy this time. _'That liar,'_ he thought with a hint of malice, _'I just hate her!'_

The proverbial 'small voice' in his head corrected him. He didn't hate her. But there was something about her weirdness and off-hand remarks that made him mad – very mad. Why couldn't she be more polite to him, for instance, and listen to him oftener and not disappear to her side of the well all the time? Would it kill her to show a little respect after all that he was doing for her?

The 'small voice' corrected him again. She _did_ care about him, and he knew it. She cooked for him everyday and the other day when she thought he was dying she'd actually cried for him. Her smile, her voice, her touch – they had filled a void inside him that he didn't even know existed.

A bolt of electricity ran down his spine.

'_What the hell am I doing? Why am I thinking about Kagome when I should think about Kikyou?'_ he frantically started repeating the chant that he often recited to himself – just to make sure he wouldn't forget. _'Kikyou is the one who died after me, who showed me true kindness, who is in the clutches of Naraku because of me. My life belongs to Kikyou.' _

He cursed inwardly as he espied the approaching figure of Kagome in the distance. 

"Inuyasha!" she called out worriedly to him.

"Go away!" he shouted, drowning out her voice ringing in his ears.

He chose to ignore the pained look upon her face. To console her would be dishonour Kikyou.


	16. Persistence

First submitted to IB4Y.2. Won second position.

Pure energy crackled around the monk. '_Too pure,'_ he thought grimly as he leaned against his staff. Indeed, it was getting harder and harder for him to breathe, let alone walk through the perilous mountain terrain. He had been travelling without a break for a whole day and yet his destination always remained just beyond his reach.

A pebble rolled away from his feet and disappeared into the dark depths of the cliff. On the other side a stone wall rose almost vertically into the sky. The narrow road in front of him disappeared round a bend. The sky was an unbroken gray. Miroku looked forlornly at the lonely prospect that stretched out in front of him. Even the monotonous jangling of the metal rings attached to his staff had begun to tick him off.

He needed to discover the source of the pure aura that was mocking him, berating him for his depraved thoughts. _But all that in good time_. Right now his entire attention was focussed on the matter at hand. In a way it was right there in front of him, half hidden by the fog; and yet it was tantalizingly far-off – a hypnotic landscape that he could never struggle on to. Beads of sweat formed upon his forehead and it seemed as though his feet were dragging two gigantic boulders. Would it be better just to give up?

'_Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far they can go'_, he remembered the words of his sensei, spoken long ago.

No, giving up was definitely not an option for him. Taking a deep breath, Miroku willed his feet to move a few brisk steps closer to his goal. Then silently, he extended his right hand to caress Sango's shapely behind.


	17. Lethal Games

A/N: First submitted to IYFic for their prompt Hermit. Won second place.

"Would you draw one already?" Kagome said, extending the Tarot cards at Inuyasha.

"Keh!" The hanyou scowled. One thing he knew too well – no good had ever come from Kagome's futuristic games. Somehow or the other, he'd always end up at the receiving end of an 'osuwari'.

"Be a sport, Inuyasha," Miroku insisted, "let's see what's on your mind right now."

"Yeah," Shippou snickered, "is there one for Ramen, Kagome?"

The miko giggled as she practically shoved the deck into Inuyasha's hands. Sighing in resignation, he extended two clawed fingers and drew a card, turning it as he placed it upon Kagome's waiting palm.

"The Hermit," Kagome's voice shook slightly as she read the explanation, "a recluse, perhaps a religious figure upon a solitary quest, searching for arcane knowledge."

Inuyasha's face was as inscrutable as a marble sculpture, but the transient softness betrayed by the golden orbs did not escape Kagome's vigilant attention. She had suspected as much, but at least she had a sliver of hope. Now, it was dashed by a blow of reality. He was thinking of Kikyou.

Inuyasha looked at Kagome, at her face pinched with pain and disappointment, and then looked away in his telltale manner. Miroku gave an uncomfortable chuckle.

"It's just a game, Kagome-sama."

Eyes blurred with tears, Kagome looked down at the swords in her palm – in the dancing campfire, each had become real, each glistening tip was plunging into her heart with unerring accuracy.

A shinidamachuu appeared in the sky.


	18. Fireproof

First submitted to IB4Y.2. Won second place.

For the past three days, Inuyasha had been sneaking off to visit Kikyou. Kagome's faith in him was taking blow after serious blow.

Images had seeped in through her half-lidded eyes as she had pretended to be asleep – Asuka and Kochou coming for Inuyasha; his running off without a backward glance; his return at the crack of dawn with a look of guilt upon his face.

She did not want to know if they had been intimate or if it was even possible to make love to a clay zombie. The act of betrayal lay in the abandonment itself. All her senses revolted against his voice and touch.

That day they were travelling through the woods when she caught sight of the familiar whirlwind hurtling in their direction. Fierce, malicious pleasure soared through her heart as she rose to greet Inuyasha's rival in love.

'_Can't I have them both?'_

Words heard long ago echoed inside her raging mind.

'_Exactly, Inuyasha, no reason why I can't have both of you.'_

Revenge was sweet.

'_Kagome-chan, you are playing with fire.' _

Perhaps, but that fire was nothing compared to the boiling inferno, which was blazing and twisting night and day inside her scorned and trampled heart. It had become a black hole now – love collapsed upon itself.

Casting a satisfied look at her hanyou's miserable face, she willingly submitted to Kouga's waiting embrace.

A burnt child dreads fire – but in her case, the opposite was true. She had been burnt into asbestos.


	19. Relics

A/N: Originally posted to IB4Y.2 for their prompt Garden. It was placed second.

Kagome had built a small garden next to her herb patch. Whenever she needed a break from feudal Japan, from a demanding child and an obstinate husband, she used to go through the ivy archway and sit upon a smooth stone set among the fragrant grass, between the peonies and chrysanthemums.

Nobody knew what magic the garden worked on her, but in a few hours' time she would come back home – refreshed and smiling.

When she became too ill to step out of the house Rin took charge of the garden, making sure to keep things exactly as Kagome had wanted. On her way back she would gift the miko a wreath woven from her favourite peonies and chrysanthemums.

As time went on, the garden became the site for Sayako's late night trysts with her lover, hiding among the flowers, trying to camouflage their scents and avoid detection by the girl's over-protective hanyou father.

In the last years of his life, Miroku would often go there in search of serenity. He would tend to the garden and spend hours meditating upon the stone set in the grass, between the peonies and chrysanthemums.

One day Inuyasha decided to pay a visit to the garden.

He had just buried his best friend, the monk. Kagome and Sango were long gone; the children had moved far away. Utterly alone and without a familiar face to console him, he went to find solace in the simple plot of land that had, over the years, fascinated so many of his loved ones.

As he passed through ivy gate, he sharply drew his breath – it was as if time had gone back sixty years. In a moment, he was a young husband again, secretly spying on his wife as she sat upon the stone, lost in thoughts. The breeze was playing with her hair and the moonlight had set her in an ethereal glow.

He looked outside to make sure someone wasn't playing a trick on him. But there was nobody there – just the lonely path stretching into the horizon and modern houses harbouring rank strangers. He turned his gaze away.

Inside the garden, history was still living, still breathing. The quest for the shards, the battle against Naraku, the wait for Kagome, their wedding, the birth of their daughter – inside this garden it was all real, all fresh.

At that moment he realized that the garden, like him, was nothing but the relic of a bygone era; neither had a place in the real world. They were aberrations that had withstood the ravages of the passing time, while everything around them had changed and withered away. Both had a long life to live – a frighteningly endless future full of nothing, while their best years were already behind them. Both were trying to hold on to a moment in life that had already vanished. Tears sprang into his ancient eyes and rolled down his youthful face.

The wind lamented mournfully between the peonies and chrysanthemums.


	20. Retribution

A/N: Originally submitted to IYFic for their prompt Moving Target.

"You must be careful when shooting at a moving target," the old priest warned his disciple.

Kikyou nodded grimly, straining to focus on the swirl of youki flitting from this branch to that. Thick masses of steel-grey clouds had gathered in the overcast sky; it would start raining soon. The sound of thunderclap made it that much harder for the trainee priestess to concentrate on the movements of the agile bakezaru.

After a while, Kikyou dropped her bow and sighed. It was of no use; she was not ready to hit a moving target yet. She should go back to practising on the bull's eye instead.

"So eager to give up?" her teacher frowned, a look of disappointment in his eyes, "We had a lot of expectation from you, Kikyou. Your spiritual powers are formidable – I am the first to admit it. But if you fail to protect your people from the attack of these vile creatures, then what good are you?"

"I beg your forgiveness, master," Kikyou bowed her head in shame. Ready or not, she knew it was her duty to fulfil what others were expecting from her.

"The youkai will not stay at one place, to help you hit them at your leisure. Neither will they arrive on a bright, sunny day. They will choose odd hours like the dead of the night or the crack of dawn or, even, a rainy afternoon," he spread his palm as the first drops of rain hit the ground. "You need to be constantly on your guard. That is how much you need to practice."

"Yes, master."

Bowing, Kikyou picked up her bow. The raindrops started falling faster, playing bass and treble upon the trees. The bamboo thickets flanking the hillside creeks grew quieter; a hush fell among the animals, as if bracing for an impending evil. Kikyou shuddered at the silence.

Training all her senses on her target, she nocked an arrow and drew the string to its limit. The youkai ducked inside a bush.

_Now!_

Kikyou released her arrow. It whistled through the air and disappeared into the thicket. And then, the unmistakable sound of making contact with something solid.

Heart hammering, Kikyou rose from her follow-through to check inside the bush. Blood was oozing into the soil – fresh, red, vivid blood. With trembling hands she parted the leaves to reveal her victim – the tiny, beautiful, golden fawn with eyes as blue as the clearest sky – now lying dead from the arrow that had passed though its heart.

Kikyou jerked her hand away as though she had been stung. Her tear-filled eyes could discern the outline of the dam, frozen by the side of a tree.

A sad bleat emerged from the mouth of the helpless dam. To Kikyou's guilt-laden ears it sounded like a curse.

"The blood of the innocent is in my hands!" she lamented as she dropped to the wet ground. Retribution would come someday, swift and terrible. She knew that in her heart.

Up from a tree, the bakezaru laughed out mockingly.


	21. Snow White and Ocean Blue

Submitted originally to IYfic for Mismatched. Won first position.

He was strong as a rock and she, delicate as a flower. His hair was molten silver and hers, raven black. A thousand golden suns shone in the splendour of his eyes; hers were the black secret of an ebon night.

_Mismatched._

The dog general and Izayoi, Sesshoumaru and Rin, Inuyasha and Kagome…all mismatched, as different from each other as night from day.

And yet, their love had stood the test of time while hers melted away with the morning mist.

The Lady of the West ran a pearl comb through her long silver hair, as a pair of cold, haughty eyes gazed at her lonesome reflection in a crystal mirror.

_The moon and the ocean – mismatched or complementing?_

She had been his perfect match. Silver for silver, gold for gold, ice for glittering shard of ice. And yet…

_Had the mirror lied to her?_

The Lady frowned, anger rising as warmth to her cheeks. She threw her golden goblet at the mirror, shattering it into a thousand pieces.

The pieces laughed out at her.

In the broken mirror, her reflection was lonesome a thousand times over.


	22. Together

Submitted to IB4Y2.0 for Unified. Won second position.

Sango gazed at the full moon reflected in a puddle of water – shining like a drop of mercury in the blue breast of the sky. It was so peaceful and yet it radiated such melancholic isolation. Did it reflect a part of her soul? Sango shivered in the twilight chill.

The evening breeze sighed and whispered through the grove of the silver bamboo, like lost spirits from the yesteryears. The deserted taijiya village stood dark and silent in the dying light of the day.

The slayer sighed as she rose to warm up her lonely supper, her thoughts lingering on her former companions. They had been unified in their battle against Naraku, fighting shoulder to shoulder, melding their skills in fierce combat.

With the defeat of their enemy, each had gone back to their own isolated existence. Inuyasha chose to remain at Kaede's. Kagome returned to her side of the well. The monk had no doubt gone to a brothel and engaged the services of a beautiful geisha. The thought twisted a hot knife into her heart, while a tear trickled down her cold cheek. She had hoped he would ask her to stay back and become his wife. Instead, he had wished her good luck and sent her on her way. The taijiya pride ran strong in her – she would rather nurse a broken heart than beg and grovel before him.

A plaintive meow sounded from the unadorned doorway. Kirara peeped round the frame.

Sango smiled.

Kuranosuke was a distant memory. Miroku, a thorn inside her heart. But there was someone who would stay by her side through thick and thin. The two of them would be unified in all of life's battles.


	23. Serenity

Serenity

Softly, Moon, over the rainbow rise,

Softly, shine in the twin orbs of her eyes.

Then wait awhile, on trees of fir so tall,

And hark the deer, so plaintive in her call;

Lovers in warm embrace sleep tonight

Beside the lake shining with argent light,

The wind will murmur 'neath the midnight sky

The shivering forest will echo and sigh;

The stars are humming ether's sacred tune,

The mountain bathed by silver plenilune,

And in the valley among the verdure lush,

Is quiet serenity, nature's tranquil hush –

Shining Pearl, Jewel of firmament clear,

Stop softly now, shine upon her face so dear.

Inspired by this fanart: sassylilpanda dot deviantart dot com slash art slash Something-in-the-Air-Tonight-84880396


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